Rescue Me
by Dusty273
Summary: Written for the spuffy wonder Art-to-Fic Challenge, banner #40, made by okdeanna. Buffy realizes she might need someone to rescue her. Could that someone be Spike?


Fic: Rescue Me 1/2?

Author: Dusty273

Rating: PG-13 (this chapter)

Timeline: Set on Season 6, before OMWF.

Summary: Written for the spuffy_wonder Art-to-Fic Challenge, banner #40, made by okdeanna. Buffy realizes she might need someone to rescue her. Could that someone be Spike?

Betas: Un millón de gracias to my lovely friends Tina, Carrie and Deanna. You're the best friends and betas I could ever ask for and I'd truly be lost without you! Thanks for all your help and invaluable suggestions

Author's Note: I think it would not come as a surprise to many of you that I'm absolutely in love with Tokio Hotel, and if it does, the fact that I use so many of their songs as chapter titles in my other stories should be a dead giveaway. *giggles* This story is not the exception, I fell in love with the song Rescue Me a little while ago and after having it on repeat for quite some time, my muse was finally inspired to write something. Considering she's been so quiet during all the time I've been working on my thesis, this is quite the feat, believe me.

_This used to be our secret  
Now I'm hiding here alone  
Can't help but read our names on the wall  
And wash them off the stone  
I trusted in you in every way  
But not enough to make you stay  
Turn around  
I've lost my ground_

_Come and rescue me_  
_I'm burning, can't you see?_  
_Come and rescue me_  
_Only you can set me free_  
_Come and rescue me_  
_Rescue me_

_We lied when we were dreaming_  
_Our crying was just fake_  
_I wish you could deny it_  
_Here and today_  
_My S.O.S on radio_  
_The only chance to let you know_  
_What I feel_  
_Can you hear?_

_The walls are coming closer_  
_My senses fade away_  
_I'm haunted by your shadow_  
_I reach to feel you face_  
_You're not here..._  
_Are you here?_

_Come and rescue me_  
_Rescue me_

**Eins. Rette Mich**

"You can leave the same way you came in, Fangface, because neither of us, and especially not the Buffster, want you around ruining our fun."

Anger made the otherwise azure gaze flicker amber for just a second, before hurt replaced it when he noticed her frozen on the spot, speechless and unmoving. He shook his head, a small self-deprecating smile gracing his lips before he turned on his heel and left The Bronze, his duster billowing after him.

It was only then, when she finally managed to snap out of her daze. Guilt, regret and something else she hadn't felt in a long, long time crashing upon her, leaving her feeling breathless and confused as she wondered why she was so affected by this. It was only Spike, wasn't it?

Only Spike… _yeah, right_! She scoffed inwardly. Spike had become so much more than just a pain in her ass since the moment he endured the hell bitch´s torture to save Dawn, and even more so lately. The peroxide blond was the only one she could go to when the hell that was her life turned out to be too much, the only one who looked past the fake smiles she pasted on her face whenever she was 'having fun' with her so-called friends. The only one she could be herself with and not worry that she would fall short to his expectations of her.

It wasn't like Willow and Xander even tried to understand what was wrong with her… or cared for that matter. They kept acting like everything was hunky dory in Buffy's world, like she hadn't gone through the most traumatic experience of her life, expecting her to return to her old self and just put it all behind her.

Spike, on the other hand, went out of his way, and against his nature, to try and help her. Be it by listening to her, or sharing his precious stash of whiskey with her, he always there to offer silent support instead of offering her suggestions on how to get on with her life. Of course, her 'friends' would say it was because he wanted to get into her pants or because of the chip, but Buffy knew better.

Spike didn't have to help her if he didn't want to. No one was forcing him to do it, he did it because he was perfectly aware of what she was going through and he… he loved her.

She blinked.

Spike loved her. He really did. He'd told her before while threatening to stake his ho-bag of a psychotic ex, but she hadn't believed him then. Not really.

"_I ... love you. You're all I bloody think about. Dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you, Summers, I'm drowning in you."_

She believed it now, even if he hadn't said it since she'd came back. It was there in every one of his words, his actions, the crushed look in his blue gaze when she allowed Xander to send him away.

And what about her? What did she feel for him? That was the million dollar question.

She trusted him; that much she knew. How else could she explain telling him about where she'd been otherwise? And she… she'd grown to care for him. When she was with him, it was the only time she didn't feel dead inside. But, did that mean she cared for him as a friend or was it something else? Something deeper, more meaningful? Something that might actually make her smile and end the doom and gloom that seemed to permeate everything in her life lately.

Not that it mattered after the way she'd just behaved.

At this point, she wasn't sure who she was more ashamed of right now; Xander for being such a bigot and thinking he knew what she needed more than she did herself, or her for not standing up for the only person she could endure being around ever since she came back.

Besides, who gave her friends the right to decide who she should hang out with or not? Or to mock the vampire's attempts to fit into their group after all he'd done for them while she was… away that summer?

She snorted mirthlessly and shook her head. Sometimes she hated that she covered up the fact that her supposed friends ripped her from warmth and security by pretending to be 'away', like on a vacation or something.

Even more so, Spike didn't deserve that kind of treatment and she knew it. She'd been a bitch to him and for what? For her friends? The same friends who acted as if she should be kissing their feet for taking her out of Heaven? Not that they were aware of that, but still…

A soft touch on her arm brought her out of her musings and she raised her eyes to find Tara looking at her intently, a warm smile playing on her lips. "I don't think he'd be too far if you went after him now," she said.

_Huh?_ "Huh?" Surely Tara couldn't mean what she thought she meant… could she?

"Spike," the blonde Wicca motioned to the door the vampire went through a few minutes ago. "You can still catch up with him… i-if you wanted, that is," she added as an afterthought.

"Uhm, well," Buffy squirmed a little in her seat, leaning towards Tara and lowering her voice, while signaling with her head towards Willow and Xander, who were deep in conversation and, thankfully, ignoring the two of them. "Even if I did… what about them?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them," the other girl replied with a conspiratorial wink. "Plus, I think it's in your best interest if they don't find out until later, don't you agree?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I know you want to go after him; I can see it in your eyes." Tara smiled hesitantly. "He deserves better than being treated like this, and I can tell it hurts you just as much as it hurts him." She shrugged. "He looked after Dawn and all of us while you were… er, not here, and he didn't have to. I don't think it's fair to treat him like Xander just did after that, do you?"

Buffy shook her head. "I'm not sure how I feel about him, though… and I don't want to lead him on. Perhaps it's best to just let him go…"

"Really?" Tara sounded surprised at her answer. "Have you given serious thought to how that would make _you_ feel? Are you ready for him not to be here, Buffy?"

How did it make her feel? If he were suddenly just… not there anymore? As if she couldn't breathe, as if her world was ending all over again…

_Oh God__._

"Let him save you," the shy blonde whispered. "From yourself… and from others. I know I'm as guilty of putting the weight of the world upon your shoulders as much as the rest of them, but I want to make it right. And I'm sure Spike can make it better… if only you let him."

_Every night I save you…_

Buffy swallowed hard past the lump clogging her throat, his words from weeks ago echoing in her head.

Spike did just that, didn't he? Every night after she came back, he had saved her from herself, from drowning in the self-pity and anguish of being torn from Heaven. He'd been there for her in more ways than she could count, and there was no way she could survive without that, without… _him_.

Perhaps she wasn't sure what she felt for him—truly felt—but for the first time in what felt like forever, she was willing to take a leap of faith and see where it would take her, take _them_. She just needed to find him right now and tell him exactly what she was feeling… and thinking.

Decision made, Buffy rose from the chair she was occupying and glanced towards their other three friends, who were deep in conversation. "Tara? Could you…"

The quiet witch smiled mischievously. "Don't worry, I'll tell them you needed to go patrolling or something. Now go!" She shooed away the smaller woman with her hand.

Buffy leaned forward and give Tara a tight hug, whispering a heartfelt '_Thank you_' in her ear, before rushing out of The Bronze.

She had a vampire to catch!

*~*~*~*

He should've bloody known better than going to The Bronze looking for the Slayer.

Hell, he _knew_ better and still… still he just had to go and make an arse out of himself, didn't he? Not that it was the first time he'd done that, wincing as he recalled one particularly painful occasion, the one that led to him becoming a vampire. Seemed not much had changed in a hundred plus years after all.

Scowling, Spike frowned at the memory, shaking his head to dispel it before throwing jab after jab at his most recent acquisition—a punching bag he'd nicked from The Magic Box—imagining it was the whelp's face that he was beating to a bloody pulp. Thank fuck the sodding piece of crap embedded in his noggin didn't seem to work on intent, or he'd have one hell of a headache right now.

Not that it wouldn't be well worth it.

Just visualizing what he would like to do to the brunet boy brought a smirk to his lips as he hit the bag just a tad harder each time, feeling a small measure of satisfaction when the bag was knocked loose from its base and landed with a resounding thud on the other side of the crypt's upper level.

"Seems you killed it dead," a voice said from the door.

Flinching in surprise when he heard her, Spike mentally cursed the fact that she'd snuck past him, but he didn't respond or turn around. Instead, he strolled over to where the bag lay and picked it up, placing it on its perch again, before resuming his prior actions as if the Slayer wasn't there in the room with him.

"Look, I-I know you must be… angry and you have every right—"

"Angry?" he scoffed, finally turning toward her. "Why would I be angry?" He was somewhat proud that he controlled his tone, wanting to throw her off before she could spew more venom.

"I-you, because of what happened at The Bronze?" she asked, uncertainty evident in her voice as she brought her arms around herself.

"I think you give yourself way too much credit, Slayer." He nearly revealed his own emotions when he threw her a sideways glance and saw the way her face fell at his caustic words, but he steeled himself, refusing to show her how much her earlier actions—or rather her inaction— affected him. He was done being her whipping boy, the pathetic, lovesick vampire that followed her around waiting for a crumb.

Before tonight, he'd truly believed things had changed between them in those few months since her return. Truly believed she… well, maybe thinking she cared about him was a bit much, but at the very least that she'd learned to see him in another light. Seemed the joke was on him, though.

"Toddle off now. `M busy."

Buffy recoiled at his words, hugging herself to stave off the pain they caused her. His voice was so… cold, so indifferent, his annoyance at her interruption clearly written in his posture, in his face, his eyes. God, was she too late?

No, she couldn't be. She had to at least try and show him she was willing to change, to let him in.

"What are you still doin' here?" he asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.

"I-I," she stuttered, her cheeks tingeing a deep crimson as she fought to find the right words for what she had to tell him. This was not how it was supposed to happen! Her throat was closing up, preventing the words she desperately needed to tell him from escaping, ones she needed for him to hear.

"If you have something to say, say it and leave. I don' have all night, Slayer."

Biting her lower lip, she sighed dejectedly, toeing the ground. Slayer again, not Buffy, love or whatever pet name he'd ever called her by and that, despite her claims to the contrary, she'd grown to like. But if she were not honest, if she wavered in any way at this moment, he would know and it would all be over.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy toughened her resolve, telling herself repeatedly that she could do this, that she had to make it better, make him understand. "H-have you ever felt you can't measure up to other people's, uhm, expectations? Of you, I mean. As if no matter what you do, it'll never be enough?"

"I don' see what that has to—" he tried to interject.

"God! Would you just shut up for a minute and let me speak? Really, Spike, I'm trying hard to apologize here. Is it that difficult for you to give me a chance?" she exclaimed, cringing slightly at her harsh tone, but really, didn't he notice just how tough this was for her? It wasn't like she was all that good at this sort of thing without him interrupting her every five seconds.

He raised a scarred eyebrow at her, and though he remained silent, she could clearly see the shock and amusement at her outburst swirling in the blue depths of his eyes. At least he wasn't looking at her as if he wanted to strangle her anymore. Maybe they'd get somewhere now?

"I'm not telling you this to excuse my behavior at The Bronze. I know I messed up and I apologize for it. You didn't deserve it, none of it." She raised her hand to stop him when he seemed about to interrupt her again. "You really didn't. You are the only one who has been there for me unconditionally ever since I…" She paused for a second, swallowing hard, steeling herself so she could finish what she needed to say even if she didn't like to talk about this. "Since I… came back. You are the only one I can actually be myself with without worrying that you're going to judge me or that I won't live up to your expectations of me, because you actually accept me for what I am a-and I don't want you to think I don't appreciate it, that I don't appreciate you… because I do. I really, _really_ do.

"I see you, Spike." She neared him, the soft, adoring look in his eyes giving her the strength to go on. "I see how much you've changed and I want to show you that I can change as well, that I can be better, that I can be… perhaps not the same Buffy I was before—too much has happened for me to be that same person again—but I, I can try… i-if that's what you want," she finished shakily.

_What the hell?_ "Why would I bloody want _that_?"

"I, well, that's what they—"

"You're _not_ comparin' me to them now, are you?"

"N-no?" she asked unsurely, flinching a little at his tone.

"Right, that's what I thought. I jus' don' see why anyone would want to change you or why you would think that's the solution to anythin'." He shook his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he begged for patience. "Look, you don't need to change a thing, all right? Not for me, not for anyone other than yourself."

"W-what if I want to change?" she inquired in a small voice.

"Well, that's different, innit?"

"Maybe," she smiled up at him, tentatively, as she took a few steps in his direction until she was close enough to extend her hand and put it on his arm. "So, do you forgive me?"

"Nothin' to forgive, love," he said a bit wearily. "Although, I'm a bit intrigued as to what drove you to come here."

"Actually, it was Tara," she sighed out, scrunching her nose adorably. "Not that I wouldn't have come anyway... eventually."

"I see."

"No, I don't think you do," Buffy stated matter-of-factly. After all, how could he? It wasn't as if she'd been all that forthcoming with what had been going on with her since her return. What he knew had been almost by accident, not because she'd wanted to tell him at the time. "I imagine you've noticed, but I've been feeling… off, numb, so much so I barely know how to do anything else but exist. Not to mention, I have enough on my plate as it is with taking care of Dawn and worrying myself sick over having enough money to provide for her without having to deal with Xander and Willow and what they expect of me." She laughed humorlessly. "Can you believe she hasn't asked once if she can help by paying rent or whatnot? Even Tara has been trying to make things easier for me, helping with food and cooking and watching Dawn when I can't, and my best friend only cares that I'm not falling at her feet in gratitude for tearing me away from Heaven.

"And then there's you," she finished softly.

"Me, what did I do?"

"Nothing, _every_thing." She shrugged with a little smile. "You're what's kept me relatively sane these past few months. The time I spend with you is the only time in which I don't feel as if I'm suffocating, in which I don't want to just get it over with already. I-_you_ rescued me from my own demons, from myself, even if you're not aware of it. You… you make me feel alive, Spike, you made me _feel_ when I thought I couldn't feel anymore, when I felt dead inside."

Spike didn't want to read too much into her words, but how could he not when she said those kinds of things, when she looked at him like that. Like he mattered, like he was important to her.

Her fingertips trailed up his arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake as she neared him. Standing on her tiptoes, she placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips—so much more than the chaste kiss she'd given him after Glory nearly pummeled him to dust—and that set him ablaze, wondering idly if he was dreaming.

"I feel for you, Spike, so much more than you can imagine. And I would like to see if there could be an… erm, an us?" She dipped her head shyly, gazing up at him through lowered lashes, hope and something else he'd never imagined seeing directed at him, shining in those emerald green depths. "If you wanted, that is?" she added as an afterthought when he didn't respond right away.

If he wanted? He wanted it so bloody much he feared this was nothing but a figment of his overzealous imagination. Mentally he took stock of his surroundings to determine if this was an ephemeral dream, but he knew Buffy was there with him, realizing no unconscious state could ever replicate her warmth or her scent, no matter if he never thought she'd willingly be placing herself on the line for him like this. He couldn't respond, though, words deserted him. So instead, he swooped down to steal a kiss that left her clinging to him as he crashed her mouth with his.

The kiss was all Buffy remembered from those they'd shared during their fake engagement but more, so much more. This was real; this was Spike and her finally on the same page, or at least getting there, in her case.

He kissed like he fought, giving everything of himself and expecting the same from her. One of his hands tangled in her hair, tilting her face upwards as his teeth nipped softly at her bottom lip, his tongue immediately soothing the slight bite. He sneaked inside her mouth when she gasped, running the nimble organ over her teeth, her palate, making her head spin as their tongues tangled, danced, learning the taste of the other.

Buffy clung to his shoulders, her fingers threading into Spike's hair, standing up on her tiptoes as she pressed herself closer to him. She didn't recall ever been kissed quite like this. Spike seduced, coaxed, cajoled as he stole her breath and what was left of her senses away as she scrambled, trying to remember why she'd denied herself _this_ before tonight.

The burn of her lungs as more oxygen became a necessity was the only thing that made her pull apart for a few seconds, his lips trailing down her neck as she panted, "I-I'll take that as a yes, then?"

"Yes, yes, bloody hell yes," he finally said. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her against him, and tucking her head in the crux of his neck as he inhaled her unique scent.

Drawing back slightly, Buffy threw him a dazzling smile that nearly blinded him, and Spike blinked when she untangled herself from his arms and started hauling him towards the door and out of his crypt.

"Come on, let's go," she said.

"Hmmm, love, where are we goin'?" he asked, trailing after her.

"Back to The Bronze," she replied as if that explained everything, when it just left him wanting to scratch the back of his neck in confusion.

"Weren't your mates there, pet?"

"Yes."

"You do know they don't like me much, don't you?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"And that's precisely why we're going back, if they're my friends, they'll just have to accept that you're my boyfriend now."

Hearing her say he was her boyfriend was enough to put a goofy smile on his face. Still, the doubts he'd lived with for so long were strong, and he needed to make sure of her sincerity. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he pulled on her hand, making her stop just before going inside the establishment, his hands coming up to cradle her face. "And if they don't?"

"If they don't, it's their loss, not mine." She looped her arms around his neck, kissing his lips lightly, uncaring that they were standing just outside the front door, where anyone could see them. "Tara will be happy for us and I'm pretty sure Dawn will say something along the lines of me finally coming to my senses. She's been singing your praises since last year, you know?"

He nodded, fully aware that he could count on his Nibblet where Buffy was concerned and Glinda had always been more supportive than the whelp and Red, be it to him or anyone else, and he was certain the ex-demon wouldn't really care one way or the other. The Watcher might be the only one aside from the brunet boy and Willow to actually voice an objection, but he supposed he'd just have to wait and see.

"If you say so, pet," he said with a sigh, clearly unconvinced this was a good idea, but following her into the club anyway.

tbc

It's been a while since I've written anything, be it Spuffy or anything else, and I'm certainly feeling rusty, so I hope it wasn't too awful. If you're inclined to letting me know what you thought of the first chapter, I'd love to know.

Thanks for reading!


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